Tis the Season
by MusicNeverStops474
Summary: Basically a bunch of oneshots centered around the holidays in Becky and Tobey's world. Some will be ToBecky and others will just be plain random!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hey guys; guess what?! I'm not dead!**

**Yeah, just lazy.**

**Nut anyways, I did start a little story last night because I was bored and what's better than writing Word Girl fanfics when boredom strikes? So, these are just little one-shots I guess or whatever scomes to my mind. I took all the holidays (well, the common ones anyways) and just wrote a little one-shot for each one. This chapter includes New Year's, Family Day, Valentine's Day, and St. Patrick's Day.**

**Hope you like and let me know if I should continue and what holidays you'd like next!**

New Year's

The clock's ticking….the count down's started…everyone's chanting in unison….except for one lonely person sitting on the unused couch. What a sad person, not even involved in the party for New Year's

Oh wait….that person's me.

I'm lounging on an unoccupied couch, everyone else too busy killing themselves with suspense while they wait for that fateful clock to chime. I just don't get it; why on earth do these people find such pleasure in announcing the start of a new year? You could easily say that the New Year started in the middle of August or February for goodness sakes. Why bother attending crowded parties, staying up well past midnight, and being a total grouch the next morning for an event that happens in a mere second?

The only reason I'm actually at the city's annual party is because Mum refused to let me stay home. Apparently she believes that my anti social behaviour is a mere phase that will unravel with time and that this year will be the start of a new life for me.

As if.

I only just managed to smuggle out my worn copy of _Pride & Prejudice _in my coat while she shooed me from the house, intent on making me a new person. And so here I am, waiting for this incessant noise and cheers to come to an end while I drown my boredom in Jane Austen's beautifully written tale of true love.

The English flows so beautifully making the old version of our language come alive with the animated debates. Lizzie's strong will and cleverness mixed with Darcy's complex and smooth personality just draws me in, unable to focus on my surroundings.

That is until a certain word-loving peppy girl pokes her nose into my reading as usual. Figures, I can't get privacy anywhere at this party.

"Oh my gosh!" Becky squeals upon seeing the title of the novel in my hands, "I love _Pride & Prejudice_; it's one of favourites by Jane Austen! I didn't know you read romance novels Tobey," she adds slyly, most likely attempting to make me embarrassed or something else nonsensical.

I snort, "It's not the romance that I enjoy," I tell her matter of factly, not tearing my eyes from the pages in front of me, "It's the sheer irony of it; it's takes them countless balls, Lydia becoming married to that idiot Wickham, and a marriage proposal to boot before they finally realize that they enjoy each other's company. Ridiculous if you ask me."

She flops onto the couch next to me, a sceptic look on her face, "So you don't believe that people can have the appearance of hating each other but actually just be blind to their good qualities? You don't believe love can blossom with time and not just hit BAM at one point?"

I sigh, realizing she's not going to leave it alone, and slowly lower my book so that our eyes meet. I'm shocked at the sincere curiosity of her look, like she's not actually just trying to antagonize me; that she actually wonders if that's what I think.

Taken aback, I stumble over my words, a rare occurrence for me, "W-well, I suppose it can grow over time b-but…I mean, how can two people hate each other but secretly like each other? It just doesn't make logical sense and it defies-"

A sudden intense chime and explosion of cheers cuts me off as the clock strikes midnight.

Annoyed at being interrupted, I open my mouth once again only to be once more cut off by a pair of soft lips nervously pressed against my own for a brief moment.

Becky pulls back, our lips parting after being united for only a second, but doesn't lean all the way back.

She raises her head to stare into my eyes clouded with shock, confusion, and wonder and whispers with a smile, "Sometimes logic is overrated."

Family Day

"No, no, no! You can't make me!"

"Theodore McCallister III!"

"….Uh, where do ya wanna go?"

I peer into Tobey's light blue eyes filled with surrender, boredom, and (most prominent) dread.

Honestly, you'd think I was subjecting Tobey to climbing Mt Everest or something equally torturous from the way he fights about his least favourite holiday. Cue Family Day.

Ever since he was little, Tobey's been anti-social. He jumps at the opportunity of spending the day cooped up in his bedroom, zero natural light, building everything his genius mind can think up. But at the prospect of spending a few hours with me, you'd think I just called the firing squad. Robots to humans; the choice is pretty clear for him.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shut my eyes for a moment before re-focusing them on Tobey. His hands are in his pockets while he rocks shakily on his heels, awaiting my proposition for the day.

"The Botsford's invited us to go bowling with them for the afternoon followed by dinner at their house; you think you'll survive that?"

His expression tells me he'd do just the opposite with his mouth hanging wide open and his eyes full of disbelief. The kind of disbelief that said _you want me to actually spend time with a kid my age and pretend to be happy about it for a whole afternoon_?

I don't know where I went wrong with that boy.

Valentine's Day

Roses are red, violets are blue

Mum made me make a card for you

And since I've got nothing better to do

I figured I'd make a poem to go with it too

Happy whatever it is you people celebrate today….I wouldn't know.

-Tobey

"What kind of a card is this?" Becky wonders out loud after opening the card late that evening, throwing Bob a perplexed look, "I swear something's wrong with his head."

Bob simply squeaks in agreement but notices with silent glee that that doesn't stop her from placing his card on her bookshelf extra carefully.

She leaves without another word to ponder more on the strange card and the Narrator comments after she's left the room, "She still doesn't get it does she?"

St. Patrick's Day

"Come here you little mischief maker!"

"Granny!" I yell, bolting down the stairs into her awaiting arms.

She stumbles but only for a second before she hugs me back, squeezing my upper body tight and ruffling my hair while commenting, "Well, it seems you've finally gotten a smidge taller, little squirt."

I giggle but continue to latch onto her until Mum wrenches me off saying I'm going to break her back.

Yeah right; Granny's got to be the strongest old person I've ever met. She still rides a motorcycle for goodness sake's! Granny told me once that she's so strong because she's got the luck of the Irish. But that's the same thing that apparently makes her evil so I'm with her all the way. In fact, Granny's actually the person who made me want to be a villain in the first place. Everyone thinks that it was Mum who got me that robot kit when I was six or seven, whatever it was.

Wrongo buddy-boy!

Where do you think Mum got the kit from? She found it conveniently in our old front hall closet the day Granny visited. And who was the first person to show me how to use my robot to destroy villages of building blocks?

Granny all the way!

In fact, I love her visits! She and Mum are probably the only two people I can stand being around for longer than fifteen minutes but sadly Granny only visits on her favourite holidays; Christmas, my birthday, the last day of school (she celebrates with me to looking forward to a completely evil, anti-social, and robot filled summer), and St. Patrick's Day.

"Hey Claire!" Granny asks after talking to me about school, robots, and my all around evil career, "If you're going to meet ole Sally tonight, you're gonna have to get going now."

Mum leaves, I don't remember the specifics; I'm too excited to have Granny all to myself for the night!

"Now where did I put them…," Granny mutters as she paws through her purse; I swear that bag can hold anything, "Aha! Here's those little devils!"

She tosses me a root beer, pulls her own beer out, and we settle down in front of the TV to watch some old Irish classics. We laugh, we mock, we mock some more, and plan which buildings will be my demolish targets in the next month.

You just gotta love Granny!


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**** Hey guys! I'm back with more holiday drabbles. Only three in this chapter (my week's been kind of hectic but still amazingly awesome!) All of this chapter's drabbles are relatively similar. They're all in the future! TEEHEE! Gosh, I'm so weird...**

**Disclaimer/ I own nothin'**

**Easter**

"Tobey?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Don't you dear me," Becky stated, hands on her hips, "Were you or were you not supposed to hide the Easter eggs? Krystal and Teddy are ready to go hunting and here you are, lounging around without a care in the world."

Tobey sighed and closed his laptop just slightly so he could meet his wife's annoyed eyes.

"The eggs are hidden Becky; they've been hidden for the past twenty minutes," he replied, an amused smirk playing on his face.

Feeling toyed with, Becky grabbed his laptop with a groan from Tobey and demanded, "But you've been sitting **here** for the past twenty minutes doing who knows what! Are you going to tell me you've invented a teleportation portal?"

A thoughtful expression crossed his face as he murmured, "Now there's an idea," but seeing Becky still angry with him he called out, "Bunny-bot!"

"Bunny-bot?"

A metallic bunny suddenly hopped from around the corner and jumped onto Tobey's lap before stretching out comfortably; exactly like a real bunny would. After stroking the engineered floppy ears, Tobey looked up and smiled charmingly at Becky, "Now tell me, is your husband a genius or not for inventing the first ever Easter Bunny?"

Becky snorted, "You mean, the first generically engineered Easter Bunny?"

"Precisely!"

Becky rolled her eyes before planting a small peck on her husband's cheek and ruffling his hair before handing him back his laptop.

"A genius indeed…"

**Mother's Day**

"Wake up Mommy," a soft voice whispers, rousing me from my sleep.

I turn my head slowly and meet my daughter's bright blue eyes that are so charmingly familiar. Forcing myself awake, I whisper back,"Morning sweetheart."

A yawn escapes my lips before I ask, "What's up?"

"It's Mother's Day!" She squeals happily while holding out a lopsided wrapped gift.

I take it slowly, but am interrupted by the door opening and Tobey walking in, a tray balanced on one hand while Teddy hangs off his other. Smiling, he hands me the tray decorated with an exquisite breakfast, then leans closer and kisses me, his lips tasting suspiciously like waffles.

I pull away and ask teasingly, "Were you in my waffles?"

"Well, I had to taste test them for you honey," he replies, his blue eyes dancing.

"Well, thank you everyone, you must have gotten up super early to make this all."

Krystal and Tobey glance at each guiltily while Teddy pipes up in his squeaky toddler voice, "I only woke up, 1, 3, 5," he counts slowly on his chubby fingers, "…7, 6 minutes ago! Me went down to the kitchen and Krystal went zoomy zoom around and POOF! They was a plate with all sorts of yummy food on it!"

"Is that so?" I ask curiously to Teddy lifting him onto my lap before glancing at Tobey's familiar guilty face, "What happened to "Krystal still isn't ready to use her powers"? Hmm, darlinnnnnnggggggg?"

"Well…," he says slowly, "It was surprise and-"

"These waffies GOOOOOOOD!" Teddy exclaims, his fingers covered with sticky maple syrup and half a waffle in his mouth.

We all laugh, after all, who knows how many more times we'll have like this.

As a family.

**Father's Day**

Another boring day at work; it's hard to be a genius a hundred years mechanically ahead of everyone. They're so excited at the simple prospect of the IPhone's 30th anniversary with more than 1000 apps. That's nothing; Doc and I have been collaborating and have so far made a levitation ray, the generically engineered beaver (don't even ask why; it's a stupid reason), and have recently started a teleportation portal (thank you Becky!)

So working at the office seven hours a day has kind of lost its enjoyment since WE ARE DOING ABSOLUTELY **NOTHING** EXCITING!

I think you get the picture.

In any case, the day's over; hello weekend! I hope Becky hasn't planned anything for this weekend; I'm just not in mood for doing much.

Oh wait that's right; I'm **never **in the mood toanything.

And somewhere in the back of my head, I know I'm forgetting something but I'm too tired to bother trying to remember whatever it is now. All I'm interested in is taking off my cramped shoes and eating something, followed by a good 14 hours of sleep.

I park the car expertly in our small garage (Becky still won't let me knock out a wall to make it bigger) before I stumble to the front door. I reach in my pockets, grab my key, and tiredly open the door, eager to sit down.

All at once I'm covered with two very excited kids, both who are shouting words of excited nonsense into my ear.

"Guys, guys; I have absolutely no clue what your saying! Slow down!"

"HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!"

Oh yeah, that's what I forgot…


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**** Hey! Long time, no write and I feel a bit bad about it. But school has been a bit hectic as well as the whole work to rule or whatever situation with the teachers. It's not the end of the world I know but still, I miss my BAND!**

**Anyways, getting off topic there; here's the lastest installment of random holiday one-shots. It's much I know but somtimes I find making short stories, like just a conversation, is funnier than a huge story. **

**Hope you like them and the for the first one, I have heard of people doing this. People just don't understand us Canadians these days! XD**

**Disclaimer/ I don't own anything.**

**Canada Day**

"Uh, Dad? Why are we doing this again?"

"Spirit of the season kids!"

"But Dad! We're not even Canadian!"

"Shhhh, less talk more ice fishing."

Needless to say, no fish were caught at the skating rink that day.

**Fourth of July**

It was a sorry sight; a squashed bun, limp hot dog, and ketchup and mustard dripping everywhere. It just wasn't fair; **every** time she tried it just would never-

"What on earth is _that_?"

Becky sighed, irritated at the familiar antagonizing British accent drawling at the sad once-hotdog in her hand. Looking up to meet those inquisitive and sarcastic blue eyes, she flung the miserable attempt at perfection in the nearby trash can.

"I just don't get how they do it…," she muttered, making a move to brush past the evil boy genius.

Sadly, he wasn't letting her go that easily.

"Hold on," he stated, grabbing her arm before she could leave, "How they do what?"

Flinging her arms in the air, exasperated, Becky yelled at the startled blond boy, "I don't get how they make hot dogs look so good on the signs, okay?! I've been trying for seven Fourth of July's now and I still can't get it right! HAPPY?!"

She stomped off leaving the puzzled and somewhat amused Tobey looking at his own perfect hot dog created by his robot. While he took a bite out of one of the two in his hand he called after her, "You could have just asked!"

**Labour Day**

"Mummy?"

I look down and ruffle his tufts of blond hair sticking out in all directions and ask while continuing to peel the potatoes, "Yes sweetheart?"

I hear his feet shuffle on the tile floors before he asks, curiosity evident from his voice, "What day is it?"

A quick glance to the calendar dangling from the cupboard door, "September 3, sweetie."

"Well, yes, but- what **day** is it?"

I halt my robotic peeling movements and shoot him a puzzled glance, "What do you mean what day is it? It's September 3!"

He lets out a frustrated sigh as if he's the adult and I'm the toddler, "Nana said that today was Latour Day," the word slips awkwardly from his small mouth," or something like that. What's Latour Day mummy?"

I laugh and scoop him up so he's resting on my hip, "That's '_Labour_ Day' sweetheart."

"Oh," he mumbles before he pops back up and asks, "But Mummy; labour means work and you stayed home from work today so why is it called "Labour Day?"

I pause not really knowing how to answer that, "W-well, I guess we celebrate work by, uh, spending time away from work?"

He processes the new information before hopping out of my arms and hobbling down the hall with his arms in the air exclaiming loudly, "So we celebrate work by playing all day? What kind of a holiday is this?!"

**Thanksgiving**

"…I can't! It just looks so…," he thought for moment but upon finding nothing better in his colossal vocabulary, "icky."

She sighed, clearly irritated with his non-cooperative behaviour, and set down the fork before repeatedly bashing her forehead onto the table. He just looked down at her and commented nonchalantly, "That's a fine way to earn yourself a massive headache."

"And whose fault would that be?"

"What?"

"… "

"Oh come on! Just because I don't like your precious pumpkin pie doesn't mean you have to be all miffed, Becky. You're lucky I even let Mum drag me from my bedroom to come over to your house tonight."

Becky laughed then muttered, "Lucky? Seems like just the opposite."

….

"HEY!"


End file.
